


Victor, Simply Stated

by BatMads



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, Good times all around, M/M, quick little drabble, victor loves books, victor quotes literature, yuri cooks, yuri loves watching victor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 16:53:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20660546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BatMads/pseuds/BatMads
Summary: Yuri delights in discovering that Victor loves to read, and more than that, loves to quote poetry and literature.





	Victor, Simply Stated

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AceMoppet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceMoppet/gifts).

> This is for AceMoppet as part of the Victuuri Summer Lovin' event! The prompt was "Yuri finding out how much of a book nerd Victor is."
> 
> As someone who loves writing Victor as a book nerd/poet/writer, I knew this was the prompt I had to choose as soon as I saw it. Thanks for the prompt; it's been so long since I've written fic, and I had a fun time putting this together!

Light was streaming in through the high-arched window; pale, golden light, that touched on the tips of Victor’s hair but cast his face in shadow as he stood there, one hand holding a book, the other tucked into the back pocket of his jeans. It was such a quiet, casual stance, so unconcerned by the world that existed outside of this little bubble, that the sight of it drew Yuri up short, breath caught in his throat. Somedays, he forgot how beautiful Victor was, especially when Victor wasn’t _ trying _ to be beautiful, when Victor was just...Victor. 

Yuri watched, smiling, as Victor lifted his hand to turn to page, unhurried by anything. He watched at Victor leaned back against the bookshelf behind him. He watched as Victor lifted up his free hand to tap his lips, as Victor so often did when he was thinking about something, when he was absolutely engrossed with an idea. 

It was not a moment that Yuri wanted to disturb, so he turned away and slipped quietly back down the steps to the first floor of the little shop they had wandered into this afternoon while they’d been out on their walk. Next door was a little cafe, and in his fumbling Russia, Yuri ordered a hot tea for himself and a latte for Victor. While he waited for the drinks to come, he sat down and texted Victor, letting his fiance know where he was. 

A few minutes later, a waitress came and set everything down in front of Yuri. Yuri had just lifted up his teacup when Victor arrived, a little breathless. 

“I’m sorry,” Victor said, dropping a kiss on Yuri’s head. “I lost track of time, and you, I suppose.”

“It’s alright,” Yuri said. 

He leaned back and gave Victor’s cheek a quick peck. Victor smiled, and then collapsed into the seat besides Yuri, legs splayed out in front of him, arms spilling onto the table. Yuri watched as he picked up his coffee and took a long drink. He watched Victor’s blue eyes dart about and take in the patio they were sitting on, the pedestrians walking by on the street, the late summer afternoon chugging slowly along into evening. He watched Victor finish his assessment of the world, and then turn those beautiful blue eyes to him. 

_ What were you reading? _ Yuri thought of asking. 

But to ask would to give away that Yuri had seen, and Yuri didn’t want Victor to know that he had seen; he wanted to hold that private image of Victor in his mind without Victor knowing it was there. It was hard to put into words, but those were the moments he cherished the most, and they were so hard to come by. Telling Victor about them inevitably ruined them, and so Yuri had them all stored away in the back of his mind, a little secret treasure of his. 

So the question died on Yuri’s tongue, and he looked away, blushing. Victor laughed a little and reached over to trace the arc of Yuri’s cheek. 

“nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals/the power of your intense fragility,” Victor recited softly. 

Yuri raised his brows a little. 

“What’s that?” he asked. 

“e. e. cummings,” Victor said. “‘somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond.’”

“It’s pretty.”

“So are you,” Victor said simply. 

Yuri glanced at him quickly, but Victor had gone back to drinking his latte, as if nothing he said was of any consequence. It made Yuri smile, and he went back to sipping his tea in silence. They lingered on long after the waitress had come to take away their empty cups, talking softly as they told each other stories. Eventually, Victor rose and held out his hand to Yuri, and they walked home in the faded evening sunlight, the shadows stretching ahead of them, their hands swinging between them. At stoplights when they paused, Yuri would take a moment to lean against Victor, and Victor would press quick kisses to Yuri’s temple. 

*****

“You know,” Victor was saying as Yuri portioned out their dinner onto their plates, “we really should have Yurio by one of these days.” 

“Sure,” Yuri agreed, calling back over his shoulder to where Victor was sitting in the family room. “It was nice when we were all together last summer.”

He finished getting everything ready, and turned around to call for Victor, and again, he was struck speechless. Victor was sitting on the arm of the couch, and Makka had jumped up to play with him. Victor tugged at her ears, and she licked his cheeks. He laughed and said something softly to her. Yuri strained his ears to catch it, but couldn’t quite make it out. 

“Victor,” he said instead. 

And Victor looked up and him and smiled and gently pushed Makka away from him. Yuri set the plates down on the little table in the kitchen, already set, and sat down. Victor took his place across from Yuri and set upon his food in frenzy. Yuri watched and laughed a little to himself before digging in himself, albeit a little more slowly. 

“Everything you make is fantastic,” Victor said, when he finally paused to catch a breath. “How I lived before I knew you, I’ll never know.”

Yuri gave him a shy little smile, and Victor flashed a grin in response. 

“What--” Yuri faltered, surprised by the question that had come into his mind, and how intensely curious he was to know the answer. 

“What were you saying to Makka just now?” he finished. 

“Oh,” Victor said. 

He took a quick gulp of water, then went back to eating before he answered. 

“Just a little something from the Odyssey; 'Eumaeus, what a noble hound that is over yonder on the manure heap: his build is splendid; is he as fine a fellow as he looks, or is he only one of those dogs that come begging about a table, and are kept merely for show?'”

Yuri gaped at the man sitting across from him, who quoted the Odyssey as plainly as if he was discussing the weather. 

“What?” Victor asked when he caught Yuri staring. “It’s a nice passage; Odysseus comes home, and no one recognizes him except for his dog, Argos. I always liked it. Almost named Makka Argos, but it didn’t suit her, so…”

“How do you know that?” Yuri asked. 

Victor shrugged, clearly a little self-conscious now. 

“I like reading,” he said finally, a little defensively. 

Yuri shook his head, smiled a little. 

“I know,” Yuri said, “it’s just a bit of surprise.”

“Even with the books?” Victor asked dryly, gesturing behind him with his fork, back towards the living room, where books were crowded on the shelves that rose from the floor to the ceiling. 

“I didn’t know if you had read them all,” Yuri said simply. 

“I haven’t,” Victor admitted. 

He went back to eating, calmer now that he knew Yuri wasn’t teasing him. Yuri took a few bites as well, the conversation presumably over, but then Victor spoke again. 

“My mother liked reading,” Victor said softly. “A lot. She was always reading something, always had a hand in a book. The only time she didn’t was when she was watching me skate, but my favorite memories of her are always the two of us curled up in the armchair, reading together. She bought me all sorts of books to read, always encouraged me to go for the thick novels instead of the chapter books. Reading was a little way to hold onto her when she left.”

“Oh,” Yuri said quietly. 

“I used to write her letters, every time I finished a book,” Victor continued, “telling her what I thought of it, or writing new endings if I hadn’t liked the real one, or poems in the style of the author if it was a poetry collection instead of a novel. They’re all tucked inside the covers. I never knew where to send them.” 

For a moment, once again, Yuri was left speechless by the plain reality of Victor being Victor. 

“So I read a lot,” Victor finished. “It’s silly, I guess, but it’s just a little way to hold her closer to me.”

He didn’t look at Yuri as he said it. Instead, he focused on the food in his plate. Still, he ate more slowly now; his heart didn’t seem to be in it. Yuri reached across the table to take Victor’s free hand in his own. He gave it a little squeeze until Victor looked up at him, those wonderful blue eyes shining. Yuri smiled. He thought of Victor earlier that afternoon, haloed by the afternoon sunlight streaming through the window. 

“You’re never going to stop surprising me, are you?” Yuri asked. 

Victor laughed a little. 

“Where would the fun be in that?” he asked, and then he went still. 

“‘If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more,’” he quoted quietly. 

“What’s that from?” Yuri asked. 

He could feel his heart positively humming with delight at such words being directed at him. He was lucky, on more counts than he could have ever guessed, to call Victor his. 

“Jane Austen,” Victor said, “_ Emma _.”

“I like that,” Yuri said. “Any more for me?”

Victor leaned across the table and kissed him quickly on the cheek. Before he slid back though, Victor whispered quickly in Yuri’s ear: 

“From the moment I met you, I have loved you; my sun, my stars, my life and love. You make every day better, ever dream brighter, and my future already more delightful.” 

He kissed Yuri again, and then went back to eating, smiling and clearly pleased with himself. 

“Alright,” Yuri asked, propping his chin on his fist. “I admit I don’t know that one either. Who is it?”

Victor’s eyes flashed up to Yuri, triumphant. 

“Me,” he said proudly, and in that moment, Yuri had never loved his fiance more.


End file.
